Adrenaline Rush
by cr8vgrl
Summary: Fred likes Hermione. Hermione likes Fred. When Fred starts mending his ways and an accident has Hermione dirtying hers, will their feelings for each other come out, or will disaster reach them first?
1. Prankster Reformation

**A/N: Hey everyone! Plot was adopted from WeasleyForMe. Emily, hope I did it justice! Enjoy!**

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"I can't do it."

George halted midsentence, astonished that such words were actually coming out of his brother's mouth. "Of course you can," he told him. "This is kid stuff compared to some of the things we've done. All you have to do is-"

"I know what I have to do!" Fred retorted, slightly irritated with his twin, yet trying to keep his voice down so that no one in the Great Hall would overhear them. He knew that no one would look upon him inclining his head towards his brother's as strange. They did it all the time…when they were plotting and planning.

George looked confused. "Then why did you say you couldn't do it?"

"I can mentally do it," Fred told him, "I just-I just can't physically do it."

George stared at him for a moment. "Who are you and what have you done with Fred?" he asked.

Fred just rolled his eyes and ignored his brother. Instead, he let his gaze slowly drift over to a pleasanter sight. Hermione Granger. She was seated a few spots down the table from him, talking excitedly to Harry and Ron. As he watched, the sunlight glinted off her hair and revealed the sparkle in her eyes even as her hands flew about her face to illustrate her point, whatever it might have been, to her friends. Harry and Ron, however, didn't look _nearly_ as thrilled.

A smirk quirked Fred's mouth into a wide grin. She was probably telling them about Hogwarts: A History. When she noticed that her friends were no longer giving her their undivided attention, Hermione frowned and turned, looking…right at him. Their eyes met, and Hermione seemed surprised that Fred was looking at her because her eyes widened slightly and she blushed, looking down at her plate with a wide smile. Fred, meanwhile, felt a warm, tingling feeling spread throughout his stomach and his heart, flushing his own cheeks just slightly.

A loud snap right next to his ear yanked Fred abruptly out of his tingly state. "What?" he asked, irritated, turning to find George smirking at him.

"It's because of Granger, isn't it?" George asked knowingly.

"No," Fred told him indignantly. "It's because of _Hermione_."

"Oh," George said with a laugh. "Pardon me. Since when did know-it-all Granger become Hermione?" When Fred flushed again, this time from embarrassment and a keen sense of disappointment that George didn't support his decision, George laughed again and clapped him on the shoulder. "You must really like her if you're _not_ pulling a prank just to impress her. Go ahead. I'll do this one on my own, but don't start making this a habit, or start quoting rules and regulations to me, got it?"

Fred nodded, feeling better now that he knew his brother was only teasing. "Thanks, Forge," he said.

George grinned. "Anything for you, Gred."

* * *

George muttered something under his breath and a moment later, there was a crash through the window behind Professor Snape. Snape ducked, but that didn't stop the charmed bucket and scrub brush from attacking his head, methodically scrubbing his hair and face until he was screaming out countercurses to get the brush to stop. However, since the brush routinely passed over his mouth, all that came out was a spew of garbled words and several mouthfuls of soap as the bucket dumped a never-ending deluge of water down the front of his robes.

The Gryffindors were laughing uproariously, and even the Slytherins seemed to be trying to contain their chuckles as Snape spun round and round, trying in vain to get the brush away from him. George was leaning over the desk laughing, and Fred had tears in his eyes.

"WEASLEY!!!"

The room became eerily quiet. Everyone but Fred and George cowered away from the force of Snape's scream. Yes, it came out in an actual scream. Soapy water dripped pitifully down his hair and into his eyes as he angrily vanished the bucket of water and the scrub brush with the wand he was finally able to grab. When his task was completed, he turned furious eyes on the twins.

As their Potions professor began walking towards them menacingly, his cloak billowing out like a black shadow, George glanced up at him cheerfully. "Could you say it a bit louder, Professor?" he requested. "There are a few people in America that still didn't hear you."

Snape was actually shaking with rage. "Mr. Weasley," he said in the calm manner of a person that is truly beyond furious, "and Mr. Weasley. Detention for three months, with me, and fifty points from Gyrffindor!"

Fred's mouth dropped open, and he groaned. "But professor," he said, praying that it didn't sound as whiny to everyone else as it did to him, "I wasn't even part of this prank." He knew to anyone else that it would sound like he was ganging up against his brother, but George had told him that Hermione would not be happy to hear that he had been a part of the prank and so he needed to let everyone know that he had not instigated any part of said prank. Well, aside from the idea, perhaps!

George nodded. "It's true!" he insisted. "Fred wasn't part of this. It was all my idea. Honestly professor, I think he's trying to turn over a new leaf." George looked up at Snape and slid closer to Fred just in time to miss the rapid dripping of water as Snape turned his gaze to him. "It's not what I had hoped he would do with his life, mind you," George told Snape sadly, "but he's my brother, and I'll stick by him no matter what he decides."

The class tittered with laughter, except for the Slytherins. Snape glared menacingly at them, but the Gryffindors ignored him, choosing to focus instead on George, who was grinning madly, and Fred, who was sinking into his seat with a feeling of dread. Oh, Hermione was going to hear about this one, alright. "Thanks," he muttered dryly, trying to keep up appearances for his brother, as well as to prove his innocence.

Snape stared down his long nose at them. "I don't believe you," he told them, his voice calm, and icy cold once again. George was surprised that the water wasn't turning into ice on his robes.

"But it's the truth!" the twins said simultaneously.

"Ten extra points from Gryffindor for backtalk," Snape snarled, turning on his heel and effectively flicking water droplets at the twins before he strode down the aisle once again.

The twins groaned and glanced over at the other Gryffindors, who were already starting to look displeased by the loss of house points. Angelina made a motion like she was swinging a bat, and the twins understood her message loud and clear. They would be expected to make up the point difference by playing extra hard during the upcoming quidditch game. "Great," they muttered together again.

* * *

As soon as they stepped out into the halls, George and Fred were met with curious, admiring glances. George shook his head after telling the tenth person that Fred had nothing to do with it, and turned to his brother. "I sure hope she's worth it," he told Fred.

Fred saw Hermione down the hall, and his heart beat a little faster as she looked up at him and smiled brightly. "She is," he assured his brother. In a way, seeing her smile at him was better than pulling a prank. It was his own kind of adrenaline rush.

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**A/N: Hope you guys liked Fred's chapter! Next up is Hermione's, if you liked this enough, that is! *looks slightly bashful* I hope you did. Please review!!**


	2. Good Girl Gone Bad

**A/N: Thank you all for the amazing reviews! Here's a nice, long Hermione chapter!!**

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She was tired. Exhausted, really, but this was worth it. After the display that George had put on earlier (without Fred's help) she was pretty sure that this needed to be done. As she bent over her cauldron, Hermione found the words blurring together on the pages. Never a good sign. She blinked quickly, but the grainy feeling refused to leave her eyes. The dim light in the dorm room was not at all conducive to potion making.

Hermione straightened up and winced as her back cracked. She had been at this far too long. She glanced back at the potion and willed it to be done. She would need it for tomorrow, that was for sure, if she wanted to talk to Fred.

Without looking, she took the last ingredient and threw it into the cauldron, waving her wand over the concoction in order to stir it. Soon, the potion turned yellow, then gold, and then finally a pasty mustard color. Was it supposed to look like that? Hermione looked down at the book again, searching for the section on color description.

"_Will appear as a molten gold color,"_ the book predicted, showing a sample of the color underneath the description.

Hermione looked from the book, to her cauldron, and back again. She was _so_ tired, and all she wanted to do was to crawl into the bed that she was currently leaning against and go to sleep. "Close enough," she said with a sigh. She filled her glass and drank the whole thing in four large gulps, forcing herself not to gag at the horrid taste.

She pushed the book and the cauldron up against the wall and wearily climbed into bed, never noticing the note at the bottom of the page.

"_**Beware not to take in large quantities. Undesirable effects."**_

* * *

When Hermione woke up the next morning, she didn't feel any different as she climbed out of bed and got dressed. She pushed her hair out of her face and headed towards the bathroom. She then brushed her curls as best as she could and tied them back with a ribbon, charming it into place before she let the next girl have her turn.

As she stepped into the dorm room, Hermione noticed Lavender primping in front of the mirror, wearing a horrible ensemble of bright pink under her robes. Before she could even process what she was saying, the words flew out from her lips. "You should really change, Lavender."

Lavender turned, surprised that Hermione was speaking up about fashion…_to her_. "And what would you know about fashion?" she asked, smiling tightly to indicate that she was trying to tease Hermione.

"I know enough to never be caught in that outfit," Hermione said calmly, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

She left Lavender standing there, looking shocked and appalled.

* * *

Hermione traipsed into Transfiguration class ten minutes late, causing the class to murmur in surprise. Professor McGonagall blinked and then managed to say, "Five points from Gryffindor for being late, Miss Granger."

Hermione shrugged. "Okay."

Harry and Ron stared at her, their mouths hanging open. Whispers circulated around the room as Hermione very calmly seated herself down at a desk and met her professor's gaze without so much as a twitch. McGonagall didn't quite know what to say. "W-well," she finally managed, "alright."

Hermione sat back against the backrest of her desk and waited calmly for the Gryffindors to stop looking at her. She crossed her arms and made no move to pull out a page of parchment or her quill as she normally did. Ron continued to stare at her but she ignored him.

Her professor finally regained control of the class and began her lesson. As Hermione listened to McGonagall drone on and on about rules that she already knew, she reached down and slipped her wand out of her bag. Slowly, she slid it onto her lap and then whispered a spell.

"There are certain rules that must be followed when attempting this spell," McGonagall informed the class as she began to write notes on the board behind her with a piece of chalk.

_**You must be cautious when performing such spells**_, she wrote.

The chalk flew from her hand and wrote, **Must you really grip me so tightly, Minerva?**

Minerva McGonagall stared at the board in surprise. The class gasped, and Hermione smirked. Harry, who was sitting across from her and had seen her whispered incantation, simply stared at her in shock. What had happened to his friend?

"Yes, well," said Professor McGonagall, recovering quickly, "I didn't realize that you had a preference. I'll keep that in mind later."

**Does your head have enough space for that as well as your daily functions?**

The class gasped, and Harry whipped his head around to look at Hermione. There was _definitely_ something wrong with his friend. McGonagall was one of her favorite teachers, and Hermione would never have the nerve to mess around in class, or to say something this degrading to a teacher. Even as he watched, an uncharacteristic smirk spread across Hermione's face, and quickly disappeared. Hermione seemed to sit up straighter for a moment, before something gold flashed across her eyes and the smirk returned.

Yes, there was definitely something terribly wrong with his friend.

McGonagall gripped the chalk tightly and wrote: _**Good lighting is preferable when performing spells. Better to see by, though not entirely necessary.**_

The chalk once again escaped her grasp and wrote on its own: **Light travels faster than sound. That's why some people appear bright until you hear them lecture.**

The class hung between the compulsion to laugh and the shock of the insults backtalking their teacher, and only the insolent scratching of the chalk broke the silence. Professor McGonagall turned around, her face bright red (not a pleasant color compared to its usual pastiness) and ground out, "Who is responsible for _this_?"

Harry snuck a peek at Hermione, who was busy studying the ceiling above her teacher's head. He needed to find out what was going on with Hermione, and soon, before she destroyed her record and lost her good standing. "I'm afraid Ron and I did it, Professor," he called out, standing up from his desk and speaking before he could give a considerate amount of thought to what he was saying. "We were practicing a spell, and I'm afraid it went a little awry."

Ron looked up at him with wide eyes. "We were?" he asked, in his usual last-to-know tone.

Harry nodded. "We were," he said, slightly forcefully. He glanced at McGonagall, trying to look as bashful and innocent as he could. "Neither one of us are really sure how to stop it though. Perhaps _Hermione_ could help us?" His pointed stressing of her name did not go unnoticed by his friend.

Though her eyes were not quite focused, and Hermione appeared slightly confused, she grinned. "Sure, Harry." Without saying a word, she flicked her wand at the chalk, which was currently writing something not at all suitable for polite company, and it dropped to the floor, shattering into three jagged pieces.

McGonagall glanced between Harry and Hermione, sensing that something was not quite right. "Thank you, Miss Granger," was all she said, pressing her lips together before she could impart two months worth of detention like she so wished she could do. There was obviously something wrong, if Harry Potter's expression was anything to go by. She would wait for the time being and would see how this turned out.

"As I was saying…" she continued.

* * *

"What _was_ that stunt you pulled back there?" Harry asked, enraged, as he caught up to Hermione, who was walking straight down the middle of the hallway as though she didn't have a care in the world.

Hermione turned to him and gave him such a look of innocence that he was almost ready to believe whatever was about to come out of her mouth. "I don't know what you're talking about, Harry," she said sweetly.

Harry, ignoring Ron next to him, grabbed Hermione's elbow and swung her around. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Hermione Granger," he said angrily. "The chalk that you charmed during class. I know it was you."

Hermione appeared oblivious to his anger. "Yes, it was quite brilliant, wasn't it?" she asked him, letting another smirk sweep across her face.

Harry shook his head, amazed, just as Ron gasped out, "It was you?!"

Hermione turned to him and smiled again. "You liked it too? Brilliant!" She turned and began walking again.

Harry, however, caught her and spun her around again. "No, it wasn't brilliant!" he told her, his voice rising and catching the attention of the students in the halls. "It was embarrassing to McGonagall! Hermione, what's gotten into you?"

Hermione tossed her hair over her shoulder and gazed at him for a moment, seeming not to see the students gathering around them. "Why should you care? It was just a bit of fun." She yanked her arm away from Harry's grasp and said, "Excuse me, but I need to get to Potions. Wouldn't want to be late." Her taunting tone struck both of her friends hard, and Harry actually stepped away from her while Ron continued to stare.

* * *

By noontime, things were worse. Word had spread around the whole castle about Hermione's new attitude and how she had not only _not_ turned in a Potions essay to Snape, but she had also told him exactly what he could do with the extra time he would now have since he didn't have her paper to grade. Gryffindor was another fifty points lighter, and Hermione had two months of detention added to her workload. "Did you hear what Granger did?" was the most common opening topic that day.

"Between Hermione acting up and Fred not pulling pranks, this school has just been turned upside down," Seamus remarked idly as the Great Hall filled for lunch.

Harry jerked his head up from where he was loading his plate with dried pumpkin slices. "What did you say?" he asked Seamus.

"I said that between Hermione giving her teachers attitude and Fred letting George pull pranks by himself, the school's turned upside down," Seamus repeated with a shrug.

Harry looked down the table to where the twins were sitting, and suddenly, everything made sense. Hermione was acting up to catch Fred's attention, and Fred was trying to mend his ways for Hermione! "No way," he breathed. The prankster and the rule-lover. No one would have guessed that they would begin to fancy each other!

However, Harry knew enough about Hermione to know that though she might have tried to get Fred's attention by pulling some harmless stunt, she would never do what she had been doing today on her own accord. Harry thought and thought about what he should do, and he realized that he needed someone to check Hermione's dorm. He looked around, glad that Hermione had skipped lunch, and his eyes landed on the perfect person.

"Hey, Ginny!" he called.

* * *

Ginny slipped up the stairs to the girls' dormitory, peeking around corners just to make sure that no one was there. She hoped that Harry appreciated what she was doing for him. She'd been forced to miss quidditch practice just so that she could be here.

No one in the common room. This was good. She hadn't seen Hermione since lunch, but Ginny had been worried that she might run into the wayward girl in the common room.

She headed towards the stairs, only to see a shadow rapidly approaching her. Someone was coming down the stairs.

* * *

"Hey, Fred?" Harry asked as he stood in the locker room pulling his quidditch pads onto his forearms.

Fred looked up from where he was lacing his boots. "Yeah?" he asked, his tone light and curious.

Harry leaned against the locker. "Can I ask you a question?"

Fred gave Harry an amused glance that told him that the Weasley twin had absolutely no idea what he was about to ask. "Sure," he said openly, noticing for the first time that the rest of the team was out of hearing range, and that Harry was speaking softly.

Harry took a deep breath.

* * *

Ginny gasped in a breath. There was nowhere to run! There was nowhere to hide! What if it was Hermione? What could she say?

Ginny froze as the shadow moved closer still, growing larger as it came closer. Then suddenly, George appeared in front of her, garbed in his quidditch gear. "Gin?" he asked, concerned as he noticed his sister's white face.

Ginny let out the breath she had been holding. "George!" she cried, relieved.

George nodded. "Yeah, it's me. What are you doing here?"

Ginny glanced around just to make sure that no one had shown up while she had been preoccupied. "I'm looking for something for Harry," she told him.

George frowned. "You're going to miss practice," he told her.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yeah, rub it in, won't you," she said dryly. "Unfortunately, this is important." Then, a thought struck her. "George, I need you to tell me the truth. It really _is_ important. Does Fred like Hermione?"

* * *

"Do you like Hermione?"

Fred blinked, obviously caught off guard. "Why would you ask that?" he asked Harry, trying to sound casual and nonchalant.

Harry, however, wasn't buying his nonchalance. "I ask because something's happened to Hermione, and I have a feeling that it has something to do with trying to impress you."

Fred glanced up at him. "The thing with McGonagall and Snape?" he asked.

Harry nodded.

"Do you think Hermione's in trouble?" Fred asked quietly, apparently having heard about, as well as noticed, the changes in Hermione.

Harry shrugged. "I think so, but I'm not totally sure. I just need a straight answer, Fred."

Fred looked down at his hands and nodded. That was all the answer Harry needed.

* * *

"Yeah, he does," George admitted after Ginny had threatened to hex him. "Why?"

"Harry and I think that something's wrong with Hermione, and we think it might have something to do with her wanting to impress Fred," Ginny told him. She started to explain more when she shook her head. "Go. You'll be late for practice."

George shook his head, confused. "Mental," he muttered as he hurried out of the common room.

Ginny flew up the stairs, taking them two at a time, until she came to the dormitory Hermione shared with Lavender and a few other girls. She softly opened the door, still worried that Hermione might be there. What excuse could she use in case the troublemaking girl was there? "Hi, I'm here to snoop around in your things," didn't seem like quite the right approach.

Fortunately for her, Ginny found the room empty. She shut the door behind herself and placed a locking charm on it. All she needed was for Hermione to find her digging through her drawers. "Now what's gotten into you, Hermione Granger?" she asked the quiet room as she advanced on Hermione's rumpled bed.

* * *

Fred and Harry joined the team and were just about to head out to the quidditch pitch when George came running up, slightly out of breath. "Stop!" he called, waving for Angelina to stop walking.

"What?" she asked.

George shook his head. "Practice is canceled."

"What?!" everyone chorused.

George held his hands up. "Don't know why. Dumbledore stopped me on my way here and told me that there isn't going to be practice today. He said to think of it as free time." George shrugged. "Sorry."

Angelina turned to the grumbling group of students. "You heard him," was all she said wearily.

The Gryffindors turned to head back to the locker room to strip off their pads when Harry heard his name being called. He turned, and his jaw nearly dropped down to the ground. There was Hermione striding towards him, and in her hands was a broom.

* * *

Books upon books were neatly charmed on top of each other to keep them from toppling. Ginny searched through the stacks, feeling her annoyance increasing with each shift through spare parchment and books that were so foreign to her that they appeared to be in a different language.

"Darn you, Hermione," Ginny grumbled as she impatiently dragged a stack of books and parchment onto the bed, dropping them roughly in her annoyance. Parchment scattered from the force of the drop, and pages fell to the floor on the other side of the bed. With a roll of her eyes, Ginny scrambled over to the other side of the bed and reached down to grab the papers.

It was only then that she noticed the large book and cauldron against the wall.

* * *

Harry stared at Hermione in disbelief. "You _what_?" he asked his friend.

"I want you to teach me how to fly," Hermione said calmly, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

"B-but you hate flying!" Harry stuttered out.

Hermione frowned. "Hate is a very strong word, Harry," she said calmly. "I like to think of it as detesting." She shrugged. "And just because I detest it doesn't mean that I don't want to try it. So come on." She held the broom in her hands out to him. "Teach me."

Harry hesitantly reached out and took the school broom from Hermione's hands, running his hands over the handle cautiously. With the way Hermione had been acting, he wasn't so sure that this was such a good idea. "Is this because of Fred?" he asked curiously.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Of course not. Now stop over-thinking and teach me."

* * *

Ginny crouched over the book, careful not to disrupt the potion or the page Hermione had last turned to. Felix Felicis. A kind of confidence and luck potion. Ginny bent closer and read the instructions, realizing that Hermione must have been making the potion last night.

"_**Beware not to take in large quantities,"**_ it warned in bold type. _**"Undesirable effects."**_

Ginny looked from the book to the potion and back, studying the differences. It was only then that she noticed that the difference was in the color of the potion in the book and the potion in front of her. _"Will appear as a molten gold color,"_ the book stated. Hermione's, however, was a mustard-ish color.

"_Beware: A change in color can affect the potency of the potion. If the color is not exact, your potion will not achieve a level of safety. Straying from the gold color and proper consistency, and/or drinking in large quantities can produce giddiness, reckless, dangerous, and thoughtless behavior instead of the burst of confidence and luck one hoped to achieve with this potion._

Ginny had read enough. Hermione had been up late and she hadn't been paying attention. She'd been trying to give herself a boost of confidence and had instead delivered an unhealthy dose of recklessness. Who knew what she might do?

Ginny jumped up. She had to find Harry!

* * *

"Okay, now put your other hand right here," Harry commanded, gently tapping the spot on the handle where Hermione's left hand needed to go.

Hermione rolled her eyes, apparently displeased by the slowness of Harry's lesson, but she obeyed. "Okay," she said, raising her eyebrows in the hopes that Harry would speed things up.

"Now gently kick off the ground," Harry told her, bracing himself in case Hermione needed help. He really wished that Ginny was here now so that she could advise him on what to do. Putting Hermione on a broom didn't really seem to be the greatest idea, but what could he do? She was really insistent today.

Hermione kicked off the ground, and it was only as her left foot scrabbled for the footrest that Harry noticed that the footrest had loosened and had turned sideways. With a mighty pull, he grabbed the handle of the broom and pulled it back down to the ground. "Oof!" Hermione cried out as the impact jarred her legs.

"Hop off for a second," Harry instructed. Hermione did as she was told, handing Harry the broom. With his Firebolt in one hand, he couldn't grip Hermione's broom and fix it, so he handed to Firebolt to her and said, "Hold that for a moment."

She did as he instructed, standing demurely to the side as he bent down and fixed the loose footing. He was still bent over the old broom when he heard a noise behind him. Turning, he found Hermione straddling his broom, her hands already moving towards the points he had shown her for proper broom guidance.

"Hermione, no!" he cried, jumping towards her.

Hermione laughed and moved out of his reach, kicking off the ground at the same time. "Don't worry, Harry!" she called as her feet left the ground. "I'm just practicing!"

The broom shot forward and she screamed, shocked that it went so fast. "Hermione!" Harry called, picking up the old broom and quickly kicking off after her, not even bothering with the loose footing. "No!"

The wind rushed past Hermione's ears, and adrenaline poured through her veins as the broom bucked and sped around the quidditch pitch, responding to every shift in her body. For a moment, she felt terrified, and her hands froze on the handle, but then confidence swelled within her and she grinned, leaning so far to the left that she twisted completely around before righting herself again. She heard someone yelling her name, but the wind carried everything away from her ears.

"Hermione!" Harry yelled, cursing the school broom. It didn't have nearly enough power to overtake to Firebolt. There would be no way for him to catch her, and he didn't see anyone down below. They must have either left or were still in the locker room. He turned his focus back to Hermione, and his heart nearly stopped.

Hermione wasn't exactly sure how to stop. Harry hadn't covered that yet. She had tried aiming the handle towards the ground, but that didn't seem to work. That only sent her on a hair raising dive towards the sandy quidditch pitch. She looked down, wondering if she could get down close enough to the sand and then jump off.

"Hermione!"

The high-pitched scream shocked Hermione out of her thinking, and her head swung to the right only to find Ginny running as fast as she could across the grass. "Hermione! Stop!" she screamed. "Harry!"

Hermione turned back to look in front of her, and gasped. The front of the broom handle slammed into the stadium seats, jarring her body and sending her flying into the wooden supports. Her scream was cut off as one beam rammed into her ribs, knocking her breath, and most of her consciousness, out of her.

And then she was falling.

Hermione was only half conscious as she fell, barely realizing that it was taking her a very long time to connect with the ground, and that people were screaming her name. And then, the ground was rushing up to meet her, and she felt her body fold under the pressure of the sandy earth.

The last thing she noticed was the bright blue sky above her before everything went black.

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**A/N: Whew! That was a long one. Hope you enjoyed it, and I hope that the scene changes between Ginny and Harry didn't confuse you. I thought that it was the most concise way of telling to story. PLEASE review!! Your reviews mean so much to me!! And thanks a bunch to my anonymous reviewers. You're greatly appreciated too!! :D **


	3. Just The Way You Are

**This is it!! Enjoy!**

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George was stripping off his leg pads and Fred was stripping off his arm pads when they heard Ginny scream, "Hermione! NO!!" Their heads snapped up and their eyes met for a moment before they tore out of the locker room, scrambling out onto the quidditch pitch, only to find Ginny running across the sand towards….

Fred stopped suddenly, frozen in place. In the middle of the pitch, Harry was kneeling over a body, and Fred knew instantly that it was Hermione. Her hair was fanned out among the sand, and her limbs were splayed out awkwardly, meaning that there was a good chance that something was broken. "Hermione!" Harry cried out, and his voice was what jolted Fred out of his frozen state.

Faster than he had ever moved before in his life, Fred leapt forward, his legs carrying him across the distance that separated him from Hermione in only a matter of seconds. He fell to his knees next to her and joined Harry and Ginny's cries. "Hermione! Hermione, _please_!" he begged, gathering her limp form into his arms. Adrenaline poured into his veins, his heart pumping faster and faster even as his blood froze in fear. He cradled her face, noticing the bruises that were already forming on her high cheekbones and the scratches where blood was still oozing. He shook her gently, and she didn't stir. "No, please, Hermione!" he cried, his voice cracking as tears welled up in his eyes.

"Fred," George said quietly, and then a little more forcefully, "Fred!"

Fred lifted his head. "What?" he asked.

George nodded towards the slight rise and fall of Hermione's chest. "We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey."

Since he seemed to be the most level-headed one at the moment, George levitated Hermione to the Hospital Wing while Harry, Fred, and Ginny ran ahead to warn the matronly nurse. As the three students rushed through the door, they noticed that Dumbledore was standing there in the middle of the room next to Madam Pomfrey.

"Ah, here they are, Poppy," Dumbledore said cheerily as the Gryffindors skidded to a stop. "Mr. Weasley should be along at any moment with Miss Granger."

Fred felt his fear for Hermione momentarily dissipate as he stared at the headmaster. "You knew?!" he cried angrily. "You knew that this was going to happen?"

Dumbledore nodded calmly. "Yes, Mr. Weasley," he responded. "I did, but there was nothing I could do except for clear the quidditch pitch in order to keep others from being hurt as well. You see, Miss Granger did something very reckless, and the potion she used needed to run its course. There was no way to stop it without perhaps damaging her as well."

"Oh," Fred said flatly, disappointed that he could find the logic in that explanation.

Dumbledore looked pointedly at Ginny. "What you know will greatly help Madam Pomfrey," he told her.

Ginny gave a start, having completely forgotten about the book she had found in Hermione's dorm. "It's Felix Felicis," she told the mediwitch. "Though, Hermione didn't brew it correctly, and I have a feeling that she drank too much of it." She shrugged. "That's why she's been a bit off today."

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "What happened to her out on the pitch?"

Harry was the one to speak this time. "She asked me to teach her how to fly, and I couldn't get her to leave it alone, so I tried to show her a few things. She ended up getting on my Firebolt, and then she lost control." He shook his head. "She fell from the top of the stands."

Madam Pomfrey grimaced. "Another quidditch accident," she muttered as she bustled away, waving her wand to _accio_ the supplies she might need.

Fred rolled his eyes and bit back the retort that came to mind. It was something along the lines of broom handles being stuck…. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled and he smiled at Fred momentarily before he slipped out the doors and back to his study.

George appeared moments later, and any ease that Fred had started to feel dissipated as he once again saw Hermione's body. Her eyes were still closed, her clothes torn and bloodied, but her chest was still rising and falling. "Madam Pomfrey!" he called, alerting the mediwitch that her patient had arrived.

"Bring her over here," Madam Pomfrey instructed, motioning to the bed that was turned down and ready for Hermione.

George carefully placed Hermione down on the bed, breathing a small sigh of relief where the girl showed no signs of pain even from her unconscious state. He stepped back so that he could stand next to his brother, and asked, "Now what?"

It was Madam Pomfrey that answered. "Now, you three wait and I'll give her some potions that should fix everything, including the Felix Felicis."

She bustled around the room, sure that the four students would understand her hint and leave, but they remained where they were, making sure that they were well out of the way so that she couldn't scold them and then remove them. With a mental sigh, she began her work, running diagnostic spells in order to discover any and all patches of internal bleeding, scratches, and broken bones.

When the tests were completely, Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips. Hermione Granger had taken a severe beating. There were two broken ribs, but they were easy to fix. The scratches were nothing at all. The bruises would heal in time. It was, however, the internal bleeding that gave the mediwitch a pause. It was extensive, and she wasn't sure if a blood-replenishing potion would quite do the trick, but she would try.

* * *

Madam Pomfrey labored over Hermione for three hours before the girl began to show any signs of recovery. At first, it was the barest twitch of the skin upon contact. Next came the flutter of her eyelashes. And then finally, Hermione's eyes opened. "Well, it's about time!" said Madam Pomfrey, clucking irately in order to hide her relief.

Fred, Harry, Ginny, and George were all at Hermione's bedside in a flash. "Hermione!" they all said at the same time. Fred slipped around to the other side of the bed so that he could casually take Hermione's hand in his, something that did not go unnoticed by her, even though she continued to speak with the other three Gryffindors. A slight squeeze assured him that he had not been forgotten.

"You scared us, Hermione," Ginny said quietly.

Hermione closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, everyone," she said softly, tightly, as though she was in pain. "I wasn't thinking when I brewed that potion." She turned her head towards Fred and smiled shyly. "I only wanted to get up the courage to talk to you without sounding like a know-it-all bookworm."

Fred squeezed her hand. "And I have a confession too," he told her honestly. "I didn't pull that prank on Snape with George because I was trying to get your attention." He cursed himself as he felt the tips of his ears turn red.

Hermione sighed, and then laughed, but the action was choked off as her healed ribs gave a small groan of protest at being put to the test so soon after their healing. "Ouch," she muttered, but then smiled at him. "Perhaps we should have just talked to one another decently, instead of changing our personalities so entirely."

Fred was vaguely aware of the fact that Madam Pomfrey, his siblings and Harry had slipped out of the small, sectioned off part of the Hospital Wing that Hermione's bed occupied, leaving him and Hermione alone. He was mostly distracted by Hermione's hand on his jaw. "Mmhmm," he murmured, unconvincingly.

Hermione smiled and then took a deep breath. "I'm still a bookworm, and you're still a prankster, and that's the way I want it to be." She smirked. "You've seen what happens when we try to change ourselves."

Fred grinned. "I don't know," he said, pretending to be serious. "You're pretty hot when you're sassy to your teachers."

Hermione pressed both of her hands to her blushing face. "Don't remind me!" she moaned. "I'm going to have to go and beg Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape's forgiveness."

"As soon as Madam Pomfrey releases you," Fred told her with a nod, not even trying to talk her out of it.

Hermione nodded, placated momentarily, and then said softly, "I'd like to spend time with you, potion-free, of course."

"Consider it done," Fred assured her, smiling. "I'm looking forward to it. Perhaps we can even call it a date?"

Hermione nodded. "I'd like that. It'll give us a chance to get to know each other better."

Fred laughed. "Oh, we'll have plenty of time to get to know each other," he told her with a smirk. "We have detention together for two whole months!" He made a face, but then laughed again at Hermione's horror-stricken face.

"I can't believe the amount of people I have to apologize to," Hermione moaned. "I'll never brew another Felix Felicis potion again!"

Fred gazed at her softly, and then smiled. "Promise?" he whispered, his hands cupping her chin. "I don't think I can go through watching you injure yourself again."

The sincerity in Fred's voice struck Hermione, and she nodded, unconsciously leaning into his hand. "I promise," she told him honestly.

"Good. And I promise to never miss out on a prank with my twin again," Fred said cheerfully.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help the giddy feeling that was bubbling up inside of her. "Great," she muttered.

"Isn't it?" Fred asked, and then he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was soft, but there was such love in the way Fred caressed her cheek, that Hermione couldn't help but sigh into the kiss. It was slightly awkward to be lying on a bed, especially since Fred was sitting in a chair next to her, but Hermione managed to prop herself up and grip his shoulders to keep herself steady as he deepened the kiss, letting all thoughts of detention breeze out of her mind as his lips and tongue completely captivated her attention.

When Fred finally pulled away, he smiled down at her and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. Hermione smiled back, and then she halfheartedly caught him by his quidditch uniform. "Promise me that you won't do anything life-threateningly stupid while you're pranking," she ordered.

Fred grinned. "I promise. Trust me, my lovely Hermione, you're more than enough of an adrenaline rush for me."

**The End**

* * *

**A/N: I hope you all liked this story, and Emily, I hope you approved of your plot! ;) Please review, and thanks for reading!!  
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